Temporary Fix
by Draikinator
Summary: Kyle's getting sick more and more often, with the likelihood of a tragic ending getting stronger and stronger. Kenny can't watch his friend die, and puts an end to it both secretly and dangerously. Can he be stopped before he ends up killing himself?
1. An Idea

**Temporary Fixes**

_I used to know_

_a person_

_but everyone_

_picked_

_and_

_pulled_

_away all of_

_his pieces_

_for themselves_

_until suddenly_

_he wasn't_

_anyone_

_anymore._

"Hey, Damien! Hey! Damien!" Kenny piped up suddenly, giggling as if struck with some hilarious idea.

"What?" Damien checked his controls idly; something was off, he wasn't going left on-screen anymore…

"Okay, okay, okay. What kind of bees make milk?"  
Damien sighed, "What kind of bees?"

Kenny giggled hysterically, "boobies!"

Damien made no effort to respond. _Kenny, you're an idiot._

Kenny continued to laugh, until his character defeated Damien's, and he felt the need to gloat over it, and did so.

Damien was used to his friend's immaturity by now, but it wasn't so bad. Everybody has flaws, and Kenny was still a pretty cool friend- most of the time. Damien was sure he was pretty frustrating to be around anyway; being the son of the devil could be a pain in the ass.

"Awww, hey, Damien!"

"I don't wanna hear another joke, Kenny."

"No, I gotta go home. It's almost dinner."  
"Huh? Oh, right, sorry." Kenny shrugged, smiled, and faded out.

----------------------------------------

Kenny shut his locker door with a bang, and hefted his ancient backpack, trying to get the broken zipper to budge. He was so preoccupied, in fact, that he failed to notice the lion barreling down the hallway. Lions in South Park weren't exactly normal themselves, but the craziness of a lion running through a middle school hallway was normal. Kenny looked up belatedly, and could think nothing but,_ Oh, crap._

-and Kyle hit him like a ton of bricks. Kenny hit the locker with a thump, and slumped ot the floor, dazed, Kyle stumbled back to his feet.

"Sorry, Kenny!" he turned to run after the lion, "Oh god, Flopsy, get the hell back here before you kill somebody!" Kenny shook his head.

_Am I dead yet?_

He pressed his fingertips gingerly against the floor.

_Nope. Floor still here. Not dead._

He stumbled to his feet and went to help Kyle chase down the lion.

--------------------------------------------

"Hey, Kenny. How're you?" Kyle asked, letting the book fall forward on the hospital bed with a plop. Kenny shrugged, then gestured at the door he was still holding. Kyle shrugged, "Yeah, you can close it." He did.

Kenny pulled his hood off, shaking out his tangled hair that had become plastered to the sides of his head. _I should cut the damn stuff…_

"So whatcha in for this time?" He asked bluntly.

Kyle scratched the back of his head as Kenny pulled a chair out from the wall, "Kidney. Need a new one."  
"What happened to Cartman's?"

"Failed."

"Oh. Suckish."

"Mm." Kyle agreed morosely, feeling his eyes stray down to the general area of his too-often problematic organs.

"Sorry, dude. Wish I could do something."

"Unless you have the right blood type, I don't think your kidneys of are of too much use," Kyle sighed, then paused suddenly, and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table, "Isn't school still in right now?"

Kenny grinned, "I think it is."  
Kyle frowned, "You asswhipe. You're gonna fail eighth grade." Kenny shrugged.

"So what?"

"So that's a bad thing."

"It is?"

"Aargh. Forget it."

Kenny just kept smiling, "Ah, come on. I bet you're bored as _hell_ all alone in this damn hospital."  
Kyle made a face, "No duh. There's _nothing to do!_"

Kenny shook his head, "God, I hate hospitals."

"Why?"  
He grimaced, "Everytime I go in a hospital, I'm terrified blind out of my skull. I always think 'dear god, I'm going to die here, aren't I?' Funny thing is…" his face turned sadly thoughtful, "I normally do."

Kyle coughed awkwardly, "Well, um, you don't _have_ to stick around, y'know."

"Naw, I want to. We're like, best buds, right?"

"A'course."

"Forever?"  
"Forever."  
"Then I'll be right back." With that, thirteen-year-old Kenny McCormick smiled, pulled a gun out of his pocket, and shot himself.

--------------------------------------

"Yo, Damien?" Kenny waved. Damien just tapped his clipboard, frustrated.

"Dude, I'm working. Get the hell outta here."

"Dude, dude, I need a favor." Damien sighed.

"What?"  
"I need you to make Kyle better."

"…But I hate Kyle."  
"Yeah, but, but, we're friends, right? So will you make him better for me?"

"Can't."

"You mean you won't." Kenny pouted.

"Naw, I mean I _can't._ Dude, this is Hell, 'member? You gotta trade somethin'." Damien made another check mark as some of the new arrivees passed him.

"Well, what've I got to trade?"  
"I don't think you have anything I'd take."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kenny folded his arms, and suddenly felt like a chick, so he fisted them at his sides instead.

Checkmark. "I _mean_, down here, we trade for lives and souls. I already _have_ your soul, and I'm _not_ going to kill my best friend."

Kenny bit his lip and thought.

"Well, what if I traded _ways_ to die?"  
"Eh?" Damien's pen paused above the paper.

"Well, I mean, if you make Kyle better, then, like, shark attacks can kill me for real or something."

Damien thought about it.

"That's a good idea." He slid his pen behind his ear, "How 'bout plane crashes instead? You get attacked by sharks too much. Stay off of planes." Kenny shrugged.

"Sure."

"Alright then," Damien flipped the sheet over to a square, blank one, and a knife out of his pocket; he pricked the tip of his finger and scribbled a symbol that Kenny didn't understand. He handed Kenny the knife, who pricked his own finger and pressed it against the symbol.

"Welll, alright then. Now get out of here, I've got work to do." Damien said, flipping the paper over and waving his hand. Kenny smiled behind his hood.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kenny faded out.

-----------------------------------------------

"What the _hell_ man? That's disgusting." Kyle grimaced, gesturing at the poorly cleaned smear of blood on the floor and wall that had once been Kenny. Kenny shrugged.

"I told you I don't like hospitals."  
"So what the hell did you _kill_ yourself and get blood everywhere for? You coulda just _left._"

Kenny shrugged, "I panicked. But I'm okay now! And I brought soda." He tossed a can at Kyle, who caught it awkwardly.

"I'm in a hospital with a failing Kidney. I don't think soda's a good idea."  
Kenny grinned behind fabric, so Kyle couldn't see, "Oh, trust me, I think you'll be fine."  
Kyle raised an eyebrow, and warily set the can back down on the bedside table.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draik: …I felt a burning, fiery need to bring back Damien.

Kenny: Why the hell do you ALWAYS write about me? I needa break.

Stan: And where am I?!?! Why do I _always_ have to be the asshole friend?

Draik: You're… at school. Like a good little middle schooler.

Kyle: I don't think you've done middle school with us before, have you?  
Draik: No, and I don't plan too. I didn't go to public middle school, I was wrapped up and carted to private school. So I have no idea what middle school is like. I ain't gonna try to, either. This is just setting up the story; you guys get older.

Kyle: Oh.

Pip: Oh my! Will I be in this?

Draik: Prob'ly. Still debating, anyway. 80% sure you will be.

Cartman: I hate that fag.

Draik: _You_ hate everybody.

Cartman: Sheddup.

Draik: So, anyway, I've had flipping _swine flu_ for the past week, and all these bubbly, creative little ideas buzzing around my head. It's been so boriiiiiing. I've had nothing to do and I honestly couldn't get up and find a computer. I've been so damn sick. Ah, well.

Stan: E gads! Swin flu! Flee!

Draik: Oh, shattup. :C Anyway, I lost my appetite, and now I

M really really hungry but at the same time I really really don't wanna eat anything. It sucs. =_= Love ya'll, catch'ya next chapter! ^^


	2. Kevin Said

**Temporary Fix**

Kenny pressed his hand against the symbol, then pulled it back, refusing to meet Damien's eyes. He was glaring. Kenny hated glaring. Unless he was doing the glaring part, and obviously, he wasn't.

"Kenny, what the hell do you keep coming back here for?"

Kenny kept his eyes glued to his feet, "I don't know anyone else who can help."

"You've been doing this for two years now, and you're seriously going to kill yourself."  
"I keep a gun on me. Planes, trains, bears, y'know. That stuff gets too close, I can do it first. I'll be fine."  
"Yeah, right. With your luck? Fuck, Kenny, it's not gonna last."  
"It's none of your business." Kenny's eyes snapped up. He glared.

"_Bull._ You're making _me_ help you _kill_ yourself for your dumb-fuck friend." Damien snarled in a low voice.

"Don't call him that!" Kenny shook his head, "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damien, he's my _friend._ And I'm sure as hell he'd do the same for me."  
"Like hell." Damien spat, and turned away.

"Well, what do you want me to do? My best friend keeps getting himself on the verge of death- if I can stop it, I will. Have."  
"Well-" Damien started, whipping around, exasperated, "I- I- I don't know."

"So no suggestions? Then don't stop me."

"Why the hell does he matter so much _anyway?_" Damien suddenly blurted bitterly.

Kenny started to bite off a response, but his eyes fell, and his hands moved, uncertain.

"He's important… is all."

Damien's eyebrows knitted together, confused at the curious reaction, "You don't…"  
Kenny shrugged. "That's… That's not your problem, either."  
"Well, I'll be _damned._"  
"Ironic."  
"Shut up. I can't believe it. There's just _no way_ a porno like you is into guys."

"I just have… a nice appreciation for the human body."

"Hot damn."  
"Oh, shut up."

"Kenny-"

"I said _shut up._"

Damien shook his head, face scrunched up in worry, "I think this is bordering on unhealthy."

"What?"

"I just… Seriously, dude. You're fucking _killing yourself._"  
"I'm not dead yet. Not really."  
"And you're just gonna keep saying that?" Kenny bit his lip; Damien was pissed, "Just gonna keep defending your own self-destructive actions with 'I'm not dead yet' until you _are_? Fucking hell, I'm not gonna stand here and watch my best friend tear his own life apart!"

"Yeah, well it's my own fucking poor-ass life and I can do _whatever the fuck_ I want with it."

"You asswhipe! It might be _your_ life, but you're important to more people than just you! There are people who _care_ about you, remember!?"  
"No one would miss me."

"Like hell."  
"_It's not your problem!_ I can do whatever the hell I want, and I'm _going to._ So just shut up and let me live with my own decisions!" Kenny faded out.

Damien let his eyes slide to the ground and away from the empty air his friend had just vacated.

"You moron."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny opened the door, to be immediately attacked by his little sister. Karen grabbed his arm, tugging on him and pulling him inside their small home.

"Oh, Kenny, Kenny, Kenny!" She whined in her high-pitched little girl voice, "Where'd you go!? I went looking for you, I did, I did, but I couldn't find you an-y-where!" She drew out the word, stretching the syllables like taffy, "Kevin just said he's dead, dead, dead, and he won't come back! Not ever! And he scared me, 'cuz, 'cuz," Kenny noticed, to his horror, that she had begun crying, "I don't _want_ you to die!"

Karen slapped her stubby arms around him and pressed her face into his jacket, sobbing hysterically. Kenny mumbled a quiet obscenity, and poked at her hoping she would let go. When she didn't stop crying, he hefted her tiny frame into his arms, swearing his revenge on Kevin, and walked her back to her room. It was about ten at night by then, and past her bedtime. Her sobs had disintegrated into choking noises, but she kept her sniffling face pressed into his chest for comfort, terrified at the idea her older brother could die.

He pulled gently at her tiny hands clasped around his neck, and pushed her into her own bed, frustrated that she wouldn't let him go. Finally, she surrendered and let him tuck her back in under the thin covers, where she proceeded to wipe her nose and ask him if he could really die.

To his horror, Kenny found himself hesitating to answer.

"I…" He started, but for some reason, he looked at his little sister's round, watery, terrified eyes and he didn't want to lie to her.

But Karen was ten years old, and she didn't understand death. She didn't _want_ to hear him say that yes, he could die, and with his horrible, painfully bad luck, probably would within the next few years if he didn't do something to stop it. She didn't _want_ him to say he wasn't invincible, as all older brothers should be. No, she wanted him to say he'd always be there. That his dying was impossible. That he wouldn't leave her. She wanted comfort, not truth. So Kenny smiled.

"A'course not. Now you better get your ass to sleep, 'fore Mom comes in here and gets pissed that you're up so late, 'kay?" Karen nodded, sniffling, and with a disturbed heart, Kenny turned off the lamp and left the room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Kyle. Feeling better?"  
"Much." Kyle nodded his thanks when Kenny tossed him a can of soda. He was propped up in a much-too-familiar hospital bed, and proceeded to pop open the can and take a long drink from it. Thanks."  
"No prob'em." Kenny shrugged and took his regular seat in a chair from the wall, kicking his feet up against the side of the bed.

"Y'know, I'm sorta glad you keep ditching class to keep me company. It's boring as hell, and nobody visits anymore. Sick to often, y'know?"

Kenny shrugged, "Stan comes. All the time."

"Yeah, but he doesn't stay for hours and hours and he doesn't come every single day. 'Sides, he's got _Wendy_ to take care of." He laughed, saying her name like a joke and waving his hands in the air. Kenny grinned.

"Yeah, well, at least he's hittin' _somethin'._"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle asked indignantly.

"I me-an," Kenny said, drawing out the word and leaning forward, as too hear all the possible juicy details, "Are _you_ hittin' anything?" Kenny thought he did a good job of hiding that edge of jealousy in his voice toward the notion.

Kyle shrugged, and averted his eyes, "Well, no…"  
"Aha!" Kenny cried, "I know that look, though. You've got someone you _wanna_ be hittin'." Kenny wasn't sure he did such a good job of keeping the disappointment out of his voice.

"Yeah maybe, but _you'll_ never know." Kyle joked, obviously wanting Kenny to drop it. Kenny did not want to drop it. He wanted a name so he could find them and tear them to pieces.

"_Oh ho ho,_ you think I won't? No more soda visits for you!"

Kyle frowned, "Blackmail! No fair."  
"All's fair in love and war."  
"Argh."  
"Spill!"

Kyle mumbled something incoherently.

"Ohhh, Kyle-y, what was that?"

Kyle blushed- _blushed?!_ –and bit his lip. "I _said,_ er, would you like to catch a movie sometime…?"

And Kenny stopped.

It felt like his brain had suddenly and spontaneously ceased working at the mere idea.

"Um, Kenny?" Kyle asked after a little while, face worried, "Now would be a reeeaaal great time to say… _Something..._"

Kenny shook his head, "What?" _God damn, you are an IDIOT._

"I… Please don't make me say it again."  
"Oh, hell. When should I pick you up?"

"Really?!" Kyle perked, excited. And Kenny felt his heart swell.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draik: Nyanyanya. The story starts next chapter, promise.

Kyle: It'd better. I'm gettin' bored.

Draik: Think of it as an old movie. First hour is nothing but plot! :D

Stan: Yuck. Where am I?

Kenny: Not here, obviously.

Stan: Oh.

Draik: Well, first off, I want to thank alllll of you who reviewed! I've never ever gotten so many reviews on a first chapter before. :) I feel SO HAPPY! Especially since my stories are so niche-y. It's always K2, Kenny's POV. I'm so boring. DX

Kyle: Yes. Yes you are.

Stan: Write about me for once!

Kenny: Phhh, I'm fine with it.

Cartman: I, again, have been forgotten.

Draik: Indeed-y-do, you have been. :D By the way, does anyone know how many times you can say 'fuck' before you have to up the rating? I didn't think that it mattered, that an M rating was way to extreme just for nasty language, but I was talking to my friend the other day, and she says that after a certain number you have to up the rating. I dunno.

Sarrowsnow- Lulz, I know,a ren't I predictable? XD

kingdomheartsforevs- I feel better now. :) It took forever to get over, though. Don't get it. Yay! I have a fan. Thank you. ^^

Ace Please- That's a sign that I'm doing my job, since you're SUPPOSED to think that! Alriiiiiight! :3

StupidityIsStupid- Mymymymy, I wonder what would happen, indeed? Or moreso, if he DIDN'T find out in time, eh? I'm sorry for you. :(

Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer- I'm glad you think so! I feel all warms and fuzzy. :) Thanks for being such a faithful reader; seriously. It's great to know someone actually likes my writing THAT much. You get a cookie.


	3. It's Cold

**Temporary Fix**

"Hey, handsome. What're you doin' in a dump like this?" Kenny slid neatly in the door, trademark grin stitched onto his face. Kyle frowned, unamused.

"Dying. Again."

"You seem to be doing that a lot lately. Mind if I join in the fun?" Kenny asked, flipping a chair around so that he could lean his chin on the back of it, casual in his knowledge that nothing bad could happen to Kyle as long as he was still breathing.

"No no no, you're not allowed to do that."

"Oh, but I think you _must_ be doing it on purpose, you just do it so _often._ I really think we should try doing it _together_ some time," Kenny teased, reaching over to curl one finger in Kyle's hair. Kyle blushed, but smiled.

"Oh, cut it out. Now, what'd you bring me?" He said, eying Kenny's pocket with growing interest. Kenny made a face.

"What, the condoms?"

"No! I'm thirsty. Gimme soda."

"Tsk tsk, Kyle, you're in a _hospital_, remember? Not so healthy." He pulled out oone lonely can of sugar and caffeine, and waved it in front of Kyle's face, who proceeded to follow it with his eyes, just daring Kenny to snatch it away.

"Kennyyyyyy…" He wined, hands wavering in the air, ready to snatch at it, even though he knew Kenny was faster. Kenny snickered.

"Okay, fine," He tossed him the can, "You can stop undressing the thing with your eyes already."

Kyle popped the top thoughtfully.

"Really, though, "He started. Kenny frowned. Those words always started a serious topic. _Good serious, or bad serious? _He thought, "I never end up dying with you around, y'know? I always feel so much better as soon as you show up, ever since we were thirteen." Kyle let out his breath and leaned back against the headboard. Kenny just smiled; but inside, he did feel a little guilty. _Kyle would just freak out if I told him. He'd tell me to stop, and I can't do that. What's wrong with just whittling away at crazy stuff like that anyway? I'll finally be normal, like everybody else for once._

"Y'know…" He said quietly, "I think I might just love you." Kenny felt the corners of his mouth pull up, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Kyle's.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Kevin, you jackass, what'd you do?" Kenny growled, slinging his backpack to the floor. His attendance had been up over the last two years; Kyle wouldn't date him if he got kicked out, or failed anything important.

Kevin shrugged, smirking, "Nuthin' you wouldn't 'a done in my place."

Kenny squinted dangerously, "Yeah, right."

"Oh, yeah, right, I forgot," Kevin sneered, leaning back against the wall beside him, "You're a fag now, aren'choo?"

"Shut the fuck up, Kevin."

Kevin shrugged, knowing he'd triggered a nerve, "Yeah, an' look at th' good it's done ya. You ain't even gotten laid in like two years, _have_ you?"

Kenny felt his face heat up, "You don't know what you're talking about! And you're changing the subject, jack ass."

Kevin kept his vicious sneer, showing uneven teeth and stretching sun-tanned skin, "Now look who's gettin' dodgy."

"You made Karen _cry_ again."

Kevin grimaced, "Like I care what the little bitch thinks. 'At's her prob'em, can't deal with my sex life."

"You were in _her_ room."

"Fuck, I was in the _house_, wasn't I? The hell more d'you want?"  
"I want you to _leave her the fuck alone._ You're fucking her up, asswhipe!"  
Kevin scoffed, "Yeah, like I'm the only one."

Kenny shook his head, "No fucking way, man. Don't you _dare_ pin her issues on me. She walked in on you and your fucking hooker in _her room!_ What the _hell_ makes you think that's okay?!"

"Doesn't have to be okay. 'S what it is."

"I'm gonna fucking break you're face, swear to God."

"You don't even believe in God," Kevin laughed, pushing himself up to carry his weight, "Now fuck off. Fuck Karen for all I care." Kevin sauntered away, leaving Kenny steaming. After a few minutes of trying unsuccessfully to calm himself down without hurting his brother, he went to fulfill his threat anyway.

---------------------------------------------

"I think we should _at least_ be able to _talk_ about it," Kenny pouted.

"No. Not up for discussion."  
"Come on, please?"

"I _told_ you," Kyle growled, aggravated, "_No._"

Kenny frowned, more than a little hurt, "Fine. Whatever." He relented.

But Kyle wasn't finished, he'd worked himself up, and now he was mad. Anyone and everyone who knew Kyle knew that he was normally quite even tempered and could deal well with the people around him, but when he was mad, he was furious. Kyle could rampage through the feelings of the people he cared about, tear them apart, and keep on going without looking back. Of course, he apologized later, but he was blindingly furious when he was mad. No middle ground with Kyle, no sir.

"I fucking _told_ you, not until college, right? _Right?_"  
"Yeah. Yeah, you said that." Kenny sighed, hoping Kyle would just drop it.

"Yeah, right, I bet you remember. You just wanna get in my pants _now_ 'cuz you know you won't _get_ into college." Kenny dropped his eyes, embarrassed. Kyle mumbled something about 'retarded' and 'useless' and 'ass.'

"You know what?" Kyle snapped suddenly, and Kenny just nodded, sick. "I think you oughta go."

Kenny stood up, agreeing whole-heartedly. Maybe it was some sort of belated please-leave-before-I-say-something-I'm-REALLY-gonna-regret, or maybe just frustration, but it was an out, and Kenny took it.

"See you later."

---------------------------------------------------------

"I think you need to let him suffer for a few days first. Nobody gets to rag on you and don't pay for it."

"No."  
"Yes."  
"_No._"  
"I don't get you," Damien sighed, and tossed Kenny the rolled up paper, "Asswhipe totally dissed you."

Kenny pricked his thumb, "So? He does that to everybody when he's pissed. No biggy."

"You know what, Kenny? He makes me sick. _Sick._ You're like, my best friend, dude. I hate that fucker."

"Don't insult my boyfriend. I'll break your nose again."

Damien made a face, "You make _no_ sense to me."

"Don't have to."  
"Whatever."  
"Didn't you used to try to stop me from doing this shit?" He commented, rolling up the paper.

"Eh? Yeah, I guess. I still don't think you oughta. He ain't worth it."

"What would _you_ do?"  
"Let the fucker die, duh."

"Hell."

Damien stuffed it into a drawer with the rest of them. He stopped, and Kenny noticed his face had changed.

"Hey, Kenny."  
"What?"  
"You're just about out of bargain chips, man."

Kenny looked down, "I've been counting."

"That's not… good. I don't think you have anything but gun wounds left that you can really trade."

"What happened to overdosing?"  
"Six months ago."

"I could trade years off my life," He suggested.

Damien shook his head, "No way. No way in hell."

Kenny looked away, "What do you care? I'll just end up here."  
Damien shook his head, "You _really_ want to end up in_ Hell?_ You can't think of any greater plans for yourself? Nothing?"

"I'm not _stupid_, Damien. I don't set stupid goals that I'll never reach; you know that. I'm going to Hell when I go for real, and you know it."  
"And you're gonna go _here_ for _him?_" He snarled, bitter.

"He's worth it."

"Y'know, Kenny, you ever stopped to think there might be a _reason_ he's almost _always_ in the hospital with a terminal disease?" Damien asked after a moment.

Kenny shook his head, "No. I haven't."

"Kenny… It might just be, y'know, _his time._ You might just prolonging the inevitable, and I'm honestly starting to worry about y-"

"Shut up." Kenny interjected, running a hand through his hair.

"Kenny, seriously, you really should stop and think ab-"

"No _way!_ You're _wrong_, asshole."

"Kenny…"  
"I don't have to listen to this." He growled, and faded out. Damien let his words die on his tongue, and sighed.

"You're _still_ a moron."

------------------------------------------------

Made to be broken.

Broken like flowers that fall from the sky; _snow;_ only to hit the ground and shatter into shards of glass that flicker like fireflies, bits of light that fade away into darkness that goes on and on and on forever and always.

Icy spires that snake into the clouds and spiral around the sun, choking and cutting off the bitter winter light that not a soul could see anyway, because it isn't really there. Wasn't. Won't be. _Gone?_ Ice like from the sides of the streets and the depths of the heart.

It's cold.

The moon rises until it crashes into the sky and burns out. Darkness again. Stretching; reaching like babies hands; grasping at exposed limbs that cry out for redemption and to be saved by the ones those limbs have just struck, uncomprehending of why they are dragged away with no resistance.

Tendrils of hope that aren't there.

Hearing without listening- _NO ONE IS THERE _

Cotton candy clouds float across _THEIR___vision, lazy lovely. Whispers of 'yes' and of 'good,' smiles and pink grass and thoughts that go no deeper than 'I am fine.'

Gray skies choking colourful children who try to wake up, but cannot and do not want to. Sneering trees that whisper the wrongs of children who have done none, broken minds and broken bodies that snap like twigs and cry until they dry up like tiny deserts in gym shorts. Through the silence of the spoken, they cry out with mute mouths upon deaf ears that do not hear the screams of '_**HELP ME**_,' they hear nothing but 'I am fine.'

Blue eyes and blond hair, perfect eyes that smile when he does if you close yours, and lips that say soft words of 'I am fine,' because he should be.

But he isn't.

_Hallelujah Hallelujah to a God that isn't there. Tell me, won't you, why you'll take away my life and yet let me live?_

-----------------------------------------------

Kenny was sitting in a Laundromat in his underwear, waiting for his clothes to finish. Kyle was out of the hospital today, and Kenny had promised he would take him out. His clothes had started to smell funny again, and Kenny wanted to keep up a nice appearance.

He was very bored. Considering he was going to have to sit in his underwear, he'd had to leave all of the 'literature' he owned back at home. He didn't feel like taking a nap and having his clothes stolen, he dug his phone out of his 'bag of things found in his pockets that is not to be washed,' and texted Stan.

_hey. wat r u doing?_

It didn't take very long for a response. Kenny thanked whatever deity that may or may not have been listening for that.

_waiting for wendy to finish shopping_

_lol where?_

_some weird ass shoe store_

_sucks to be u dude_

_wat r u doing?_

_washing my clothes. bored as hell_

_ouch._

_I no_

_dude, we never hang out anymore. u busy today_

_im with kyle today sorry_

_oh_

_sorry, u busy tomorow?_

_actually, yeah i am _

_wat r u doing?_

Kenny waited for awhile, but he got no response. He sighed, closed his phone, and shoved it back in the bag.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draik: Okay, so I finally decided on where Stan has been this whole time. XD

Stan: You're _kidding_ me.

Kyle: I thought you said you were gonna _stop_ being an ass to him!

Draik: Well, I _meant_ to, but…

Stan: Godammit.

Draik: Anyway. Did you know Microsoft word automatically capitalizes 'Laundromat?'

Kyle: …Why.

Draik: I have no idea. But it's _weird._

Kenny: And off topic.

Draik: I don't _have _a topic.

Damien: The _story_, douche.

Draik: Oh, yeah! Anyway, this is two _more_ years after the _last_ chapter, if you didn't notice. Other than that, I can only state the obvious.

Kyle: I have anger management issues.

Kevin: I'm an ass.

Kenny: I'm sex-starved.

Damien: I'm not _such_ an asshole that the fact my best friend is trying to kill himself doesn't bother me. Come on, just because I'm evil doesn't mean I can't WORRY about someone I actually DO give a shit about, right?

Kenny: Also, I'm a little crazy.

Stan: …And I'm a douchebag.

Draik: And _I_ have a sandwich with my name on it. A sandwich, a cold Mountain Dew, and a new episode of South Park. Also, today is my birthday. :3 PEACE OUT YO.

Sarrowsnow: Soon enough? :3

StupidityIsStupid: Aw, come on. Cut me some slack! I know he's evil and all, but he was a stressed out teenager who was being forced to help his friend will his life away for someone _he didn't even like._ I'm sure he had a lot of issues going on around that age, being puberty and all, and Kenny is Damien's ONLY friend. Damien doesn't LIKE people. He's very anti-social. So he's probably sort of attached to him; he's got no one else to draw attachments too, you know?


	4. I'm okay

**Temporary Fix**

_It's almost funny how I can wake up and think of nothing but _My Heart Hurts.

Shut up shut up so you can hear the music in my head. Nothing sadder than should have could have and would have, is there? Until you've been quite as cold as _me _{In my heart and my head} you don't know what warm is {But it isn't}.

Death must be quite lovely, no one goes for vacation, they go and they stay- _I wonder what's so great about life, anyway._ Momma said there was a reason for that little dash between the dates on a headstone, but I'll come back if I have to just to scratch mine off. _MY DASH WAS STOLEN FROM ME._

They wonder and they wander, lonely humans in their own right, christened by smoke and baptized by rain.

What does my missing dash say but that I'm going to die wishing I had lived?

_**TELL ME TELL ME WHO AM I?**_

--------------------------------------------

Kenny pulled off one shoe, shaking out the debris that was hiding in the toe. He was sitting on the edge of the building, second floor, waiting for school to let out and Stan to come by this way.

He watched the dirt fall all the way down, and wondered vaguely what it would be like if it were him, those little bits of dust. It was a morbid and depressing thought, but he'd had a few more than normal of those lately. If Kyle got sick just _one more_ time, he'd be forced to do something drastic. And he didn't know how.

Kenny replaced his shoe, and looked up at the sky.

_No… I'm happy with my life. I mean, sure, there's a lot of things that could be better… but I don't want to give it up. There's stuff I can still change… And so much time to change it in. _

Kenny didn't know how to face death, or his own personal choosing of it. It was a final option; give up his life or what he lived for? It was an unfair decision, one he'd made many, many years ago.

The bell rang.

Kenny watched the claustrophobic nightmare that was a mob of high school students trying to escape the building, searching for a familiar face. He saw Stan pass by, glance at him, then snap his head forward, quickening his pace. Kenny stood up, and Stan turned down the stairs.

"Hey! Stan, hey- STAN!" He yelled out over the crowd, though his voice failed to carry through the already monstrously loud conversations, he supposed, because Stan didn't acknowledge him.

Kenny pushed someone out of his way, trying to catch Stan before he disappeared again, and he stumbled out of the crowd on the stairwell. Kenny looked around, having lost sight of his friend for a mere moment.

But Stan was gone.

------------------------------------------

Do I mind dying? I guess I have to, that's what everyone else says I should.

I'm just scared they'll forget me (_**TELL ME TELL ME WHAT'S MY NAME?**_) but I'm not afraid to be dead. I've been dead before and it isn't so bad.

You know, I met the devil but I never did meet God.

No no no I'm not afraid to die.

But I'm afraid to die alone.

-----------------------------------------------

Kyle pushed his hair out of his face. Kenny smiled; he loved Kyle's hair. Well- he loved _Kyle_, but especially his hair. Kyle wasn't one for cutting hair, and the way in naturally curled and coiled was mesmerizing. It was that vibrant red that just didn't seem possible, and yet, it had to be.

Kyle frowned. That was a wrongness- Kyle shouldn't- couldn't (But did) frown.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked curiously, and Kenny corrected himself. Not just a frown. Good frown. His lips went down, but his eyes were smiling.

"Oh, nothing," Kenny said, and felt the need to squirm a little bit closer, "Just you."  
"Aww," Kyle said, in an over-the top, mushy voice, "Dat's sho shweet!"

Kenny playfully batted him in the arm, "Oh, shut it."

Kyle smiled. That was better. Right.

"Hey, Kenny?" Kyle asked after a moment, his eyes watching a cloud as it drifted lazily over their school, lonely in the afternoon sky.

"What?"  
"What's it like to die?"

The question caught him off guard. Kenny hadn't expected it- it was a strangeness; an oddity; a wrongness to hear Kyle contemplate death. Kyle and Death weren't allowed in the same sentence, lest the word can't be between them.

"It's…" He paused, thinking carefully, "It's not like falling asleep, like they tell you. There's no denial, you know when you're dead. I can't explain it. You just _know._" He drifted quietly into his memories, "I've been to graveyards while I was dead. People sit and stare at their own headstone and cry for themselves, and I feel bad for them, because if they can cry over _themselves_, then they have nothing to cry over." He frowned, he shouldn't have said that, "Me? I just go. There's never anything for me to see I haven't seen before. No funerals anymore." Kenny suddenly giggled, struck by a funny thought, he didn't notice the look of concern on Kyle's face, "Funerals are ironic. It's a big party, just for you, on the _one day_ everyone knows you can't come."

Kyle looked down, and even though Kenny had more to say on the topic, he bit his lip.

"…It doesn't hurt as much as you'd think though. Just dead, and it ends. And then you get to go where you're going, and it's a lot better." He hoped that didn't sound quite so bad.

"Where do you go?" Kyle asked suddenly.

Kenny frowned, "I can't tell you that."

"What do you mean?"

"It's better when it's a surprise."  
"I hate surprises."  
"I know."

"…Kenny, do you believe in Heaven?"

Kenny choked momentarily as the word 'No' bubbled up in his throat, and instead said, "Duh. Where else do you think an angel like you came from?"

---------------------------------------------------

Somewhere silent, a rabbit gives up; the hawks descend.

Somewhere, somewhy, a sad story ends.

Bittersweet melody, O play it again.

I can't hear the words unspoken, PLAY IT AGAIN.

Waiting waiting waiting for what I know can never come- denial denial, God knows I must be wrong. Please tell me God, are you listening? No one else will. What do I do when I should do nothing? Sit down shut up, that's what they said. I tried that and I ended up dead. Dead like **ME** but not like **HIM**. Wishing to be wanting for the way that never was, wanting to be wishing for the way that could've been. No no no no no no I don't make sense but I shouldn't have to. _**WHAT AM I SAYING?! **_Like nothing.

Careful O be careful lo no one escapes from life alive.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Damien, Damien…" Kenny muttered, staring upwards. Funny, how even though he knew he wasn't on earth anymore, that he could see the stars in Hell. Weird, weird, weird…

"What's wrong?" Damien asked, fiddling with papers. Kenny wondered for a moment what was written on them. Shallow love letters? Suicide notes? Statistics? Or a combination? But Kenny didn't care to ask for fear of the answer.

"I think Kyle's sick again." Damien's hands faltered. Kenny stopped watching him, and went back to staring up at the stars that shouldn't be there,

"Wh… What makes think that?"

"How many times have I been that sick…? I think I can tell, by now."

There was a noise, but Kenny didn't look, didn't see, "Kenny… I'm not going to help you, this time."

Kenny smiled, "Oh, I know. You told me."

"…Why are you smiling?"  
"Because yesterday, I was thinking… and you're not the only one out there who would help me."

There was a quiet crash as Damien knocked something over, "You don't mean my _Dad_, do you?"

Kenny nodded mutely. There stars were so pretty… little lights that shown bright in the darkness (look at me!).

"Oh, _hell no, _Kenny. I'm _not_ letting you make a deal with _him!_" Damien swore. Loudly.

Kenny closed his eyes, "Too late. I already did." Kenny faded out.

--------------------------------------------------------

God how I wish I could say 'oh, look, I'm okay,' and have someone get angry and say, 'okay, now tell me the truth.' I hate looking for an answer because of those days that I have to FIND IT. Ask an expert, since **THEY** should know; the most common lie is "_**I'M FINE**_.'

Even the greatest mirror (**I SHOW YOU WHAT YOU ARE SINCE I AM NOTHING**) is shattered by the smallest stone. Look at me **look at me** look at me touch me and I flinch.

**JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE A LIFE DOESN"T GIVE YOU RIGHT TO TAKE AWAY MINE.**

----------------------------------------------

Karen cried out, "Kenny! Big brother, come back!" Kenny started to turn, when his tiny sister hit him like a ton of bricks and clasped her arms around his waist, tightly, like she had always done when she was scared. Kenny blinked.

"What's wrong?"

She said something, muffled by the folds of his jacket pressed against her face. She sounded on the verge of tears, though. He gingerly pulled her away, just enough to hear her.

"What?"  
Karen sniffled, "Kevin- Kevin- Kevin _said_, that you were gonna 'off yourself!' Big brother, you- you wouldn't _ever_ do that, right? Right?"

Kenny paused. _Off off off, turn off the lights. _He shook his head, smiling, a fantastic liar, "No way. Kevin's a retard, you know he likes to mess with you."

"But, but, but, he was being _serious_ for once! I mean it! Really, big brother, Kevin said you'd been _talking_ to yourself a lot, and you broke all the mirrors in your room, and- and- _Big brother don't leave me here!_" She broke down, hysteric into his jacket. Kenyn sighed. Karen had always been very emotional; especially when it came to her big brother. Ever since their parents had split up, he'd mostly taken care of her.

Kenny felt bad, deep down, about lying to her, and leaving her; she was only twelve.

_I'm sorry, Karen._

------------------------------------------------

He sat on his bed and felt the rusty springs poking up just below the thin surface. _Ouch ouch ouch. Hurts._

Like nothing, _what do I see?_ Kenny stared at the blank patch of wall where a mirror had once hung. _Silent wall with quiet __**white**__ that does nothing and is nothing sort of like me?_

Kenny closed his eyes and leaned back.

--------------------------------

Draik: So, are you confused?

Kenny: The HELL?

Draik: Well, if you didn't catch it on your own, Kenny isn't (or, well, wasn't by now…) depressed. He wasn't sad, and he didn't want to die. Not for real. But he'd made a decision to take Kyle's place, and he feels he has to go through with it. He _wants_ to, but he's scared. He's unable to honestly say 'I'm okay to die.' So what he's been doing, slowly, bit by bit, is driving himself mad. He's been telling himself, harshly, that he doesn't matter. That he IS depressed. That he DOES want to die. And he's forcing himself to believe it, because the only way he can possibly make such a decision the way he WANTS to make it is to be something he isn't. So those confusing bits of story that go between other bits and don't make much sense? Those are snippets of how he's thinking.

Kyle: Whoa. Heavy.

Kenny: Am I gonna die? :(

Draik: Shh… No spoilers for j00.

Stan: Can I please be a NOT douche for a little while?

Draik: No! :D

Stan: Argh.

Draik: BTW, please please PLEASE notice that none of the paragraphs (except for the first one; where he's only just starting his insanity therapy) start with 'Kenny.' All of the not-crazy ones start with someone else's name.

Kenny: Hardcore.

Kyle: Intense.

Stan: Wicked.

Draik: Don't patronize me!

Sarrowsnow: Ohhh, okay, I'll tell him! HAY DAMIEN.

Damien: HAY.

Draik: SARROWSNOW SAYS HAY.

Damien: HAY SARROWSNOW.

Draik: BTW, Damien apparently speaks in CAPITAL LETTERS OMG.

Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer: That's okay. :) D'awww. But you hit the nail on the head with these guys. XD So descriptive! 'Damien is… well, Damien.' OMG I'VE SEEN THAT VIDEO. :0

StupidityIsStupid: Good luck lol. Yupyupyup, Kevin's an ass. And I have a thing for Karen. I think I have yet to write an SP multi-chap without something dramatic connected to her… I should be working on an English project, too. XD

Bludgeoning Angel: Hay. :D Yup, I'm all good now. ^^ And thank you! o///o


	5. HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE

**Temporary Fix**

**HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND I AM FINE ****HELLO MY NAME IS KENNY AND**  
hello my name is kenny and i'm not okay.


	6. Check

**Temporary Fix**

Rising, falling, waxing, waning, coming, going, gone.

----

"What do you _mean, _you already did?" Damien grabbed Kenny by the collar, roughly. Kenny blinked. He hadn't expected Damien to remember that line. The script needed tweaking…

Kenny shook his head, "In twenty-four hours- well, more like eight or so, now, the curtain falls. I'm finished." Act five, begin.

Damien's face fell, scared, "You're… you're going to die…?"

Kenny laughed- he wasn't sure why. It felt funny, but something in the back of his twisted mind screamed that it wasn't, "No, no… I traded off my spirit, on the condition that if I died, _then, _Kyle wouldn't. Then he wouldn't get sick, not anymore."  
"Why?!"

"Well, if I traded my soul or my life, I could only get him cured this time, or make him not sick again. But I'm trading both spirit and life. But my soul is mine, forever and ever…"

"But your spirit binds your soul to your _body…_"

"Not for very long, now."

Damien let him go, "Fuck, Kenny… I'm _not_ going to let you die, idiot!"

Kenny smiled, shrugging, "Everyone knows, good old Kenny always comes back. No one hates me _that_ much, they wouldn't let me suffer a coma, right? One little bullet is all it takes… and the deal is sealed."

"You _moron!_" Damien hit him.

Kenny reeled backward from the force of the impact, and stumbled into the wall behind him. He stood up, slowly, after a moment, one hand clasped over his nose and mouth. He drew his hand back curiously, staring at the tiny dribble of blood smeared across his fingers. He tasted it awkwardly, wondering what he tasted like on the inside.

Damien spat a vulgar swear at him, "You're fucking _crazy, _you know that?!"

Kenny decided he didn't taste quite that bad, after all, and rubbed the blood from his nose onto his sleeve.

"Obviously." Kenny faded out again, and Damien made one weak-hearted attempt to snatch him back, but he didn't want it quite enough.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I know I have a heart, since I've always felt it breaking. It's been breaking forever- forever's a real long time, and **he** said time changes things, but I don't feel better. I don't feel better. Who I am _hates_ who I've _been_, and worst of all, who I've _been _would hate who I've _become._

Don't walk behind me, I'm no leader, and don't try to lead me, cuz I'm afraid to follow. So I'll just stand still and try to disappear. Don't be different and don't be sad, you're special, just like everyone else. Remember, remember, it only takes two days for tomorrow to be yesterday.

They called me unbreakable- I broke.

They said I laughed everything off- I cried.

They said I never stopped trying- I gave up and quit.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny's head was resting on the side of the hospital bed, his arms wrapped up around him. He legs were crumpled tightly into the chair, and he looked very uncomfortable. But he was asleep.

His eyes fluttered open, confused, when something touched his head. His eyes were pointed down, so he was confidant that since he hadn't moved, Kyle still assumed him asleep. Kyle was rubbing his hair in a circular motion gently, almost contemplatively.

"Kenny, you awake…?"

Kenny remained silent.

"…I didn't think so." Kyle sighed, "You know, Kenny," Kyle made a sound like laughter under his breath, "I'm scared. You've been so weird lately…" Kenny got the feeling Kyle wasn't actually speaking to him.

"Like… You don't know what you're saying… and you don't smile right anymore. It seems so- forced. And… God, Kenny. You're scaring me. Please, please don't hurt yourself…"

Kenny decided he didn't want to be awake, and rectified the situation.

----------------------------------------------------------------

There's nothing harder to say than I love you, I'm sorry, and _**HELP ME!**_ Just because I look strong doesn't mean I can't fall asleep crying, even though I say nothing's wrong, you should really remember that I'm good at lying.

Did you ever, ever hear that one out of four people is crazy? Well, Stan is fine, and Kyle is okay, and Cartman evil but completely sane- guess it only makes sense.

Every time I say 'Just kidding,' I'm not. Just because I'm smiling doesn't mean I'm happy.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny was sitting in the chair in the corner. His head hurt a little, but he chose to ignore it. Kyle was sleeping; he'd been up very late the previous night. Kenny smiled half-heartedly, and stared at the ceiling.

Checklist, one last time.

Make sure to tell Karen 'I love you?'

Check.

Tell Kevin he was an ass, but he didn't hate him?

Check.

Text Stan and say that if he hated him for his choices, that was okay, but they would always be friends?

Check.

Tell Wendy to tell Stan, too, in case he deleted the message?

Check.

Hug his mother?

Check.

Transfer all the money from his bank account into Karen's college fund?

Check.

Tell Cartman that yeah, they were best friends?

Check.

Kiss Kyle one last time?

Check.

Say goodbye? To anyone?

Kenny closed his eyes.

Five, four, three, two…

Goodnight.

_It always rains the hardest on those who deserve the sun._

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyle shifted, waking up. His mind felt fuzzy, and he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, running his hand over the bedside table as he tried to find his hat. Kyle stopped- he'd seen a bright flash of neon orange out of the corner of his eye. He turned, feeling bubbly and quite a bit better when compared to yesterday.

"God _morning_, Kenny!" He said brightly, stretching. Kenny was sitting in the corner chair, right by his bed, a constant source of strength in his life. Kyle was smiling- Kenny was always there. He'd be sick, or he'd be hurting, or he'd be sad, and Kenny would be there. Always, always there. He was in the hospital, _again_, and yet, here he was. For the thousandth time, he was passed out in a squeaky, green plastic hospital chair in his room.

Kyle continued to smile, feeling good, even though Kenny didn't wake up.

"Kennyyyy," Kyle kicked his feet over the side of his bed and wandered over, "wake uuuuup!" He poked him gently. Kyle frowned. Something was very wrong. Kenny didn't wake up.

Kyle put one hand on his shoulder and shook him, gently, "Hey, Kenny, come on…"

Kyle felt scared, suddenly. Kenny was breathing weakly, but he wouldn't open his eyes. He wouldn't wake up. Kyle shook him again, harder. Admittedly, Kyle felt like a girl at the impulse to shriek like one when Kenny fell over onto the floor with a thump and _still_ didn't awaken.

"Kenny!" Kyle cried, dropping to his knees, terrified, "Wake up! Come on! Kenny, Kenny, wake up, wake up!"

But Kenny didn't wake up.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draik: D'awww. Poor Kenny, j00 be sleepin'!

Kenny: I wanna wake up and get make-up sex. ;___;

Kyle: NO. BAD KENNY. DOWN. BAD.

Kenny: ;___;

Stan: Do I get to do… _anything_ in this story?  
Draik: Yeah! You're in the next chapter. I promise.

Stan: I better.

Emo-nerdy-insane-writer: Lol, that WOULD be the definition of martyrdom, yes. XD I'm sure if crazy!Kenny believed in heaven, that would be very reassuring. :( But don't worry about _Kenny_, this story isn't over just yet. Oh, and it's not supposed to. ^^ That just means it's WORKING.

Sarrowsnow: He should know this by now. DX It can only end up badly! Pobre Kinny. :(

StupidityIsStupid: Denial over denial… I like that, lol. I'm honestly not sure. 'somewhere a rabbit gives up and the hawks descend' has been stuck in my head for a long time now, and I have no idea where it came from. I don't know if I just thought of it one day, or heard it somewhere… but I at least put it in context. *shrugs* And you'll just have to keep reading! I can't give _everything_ away, now can I? *winkwink*

Kingdomheartsforevs: woo fah Kahl! X3


	7. Goodnight, Goodbye

**Temporary Fix**

_All the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't put Kenny together again…_

It's dark. Not dark, like a cave, or like your room at midnight. Dark, like being blind, or being asleep. Is that it? Is it because I'm sleeping? Yes… I suppose, in a sense, that would explain it. The darkness around me is soft… comforting, like a blanket that's been left in front of a space heater. Or a hug from Kyle. Oh, Kyle…

I'm sorry I won't be there for you anymore.

I'm sorry I won't get to see you go off to college.

I'm sorry I won't be there for your birthday this year.

I'm sorry I'm not going to wake up and tell you it'll be okay.

I'm sorry, Kyle.

But I did it for you. I wish you could know that. I wish I'd had the nerve to say it, before I… But I didn't. And I'm sorry for that. You deserve so much better. And maybe you'll get it, now that I'm gone. Oh, well. It's too late for me to do anything, anymore. Too late.

I want my sleep to be better, now. I want the darkness to be nothingness. I want to sleep for real, just drift away, so that I don't feel it when it comes. I want that. So what else do I have to say…? Nothing, I guess. There's nothing left _to_ say. All the words have been spoken. So I'm going to sleep, okay? I wish… I wish I could honestly say that I'm sad. That I actually regret this. Even a little bit. But I don't.

Goodnight, goodbye… my story is over.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stan didn't come when Kyle told him Kenny was in the hospital. Sure, he was a little worried- but he wasn't allowed to care. No, he couldn't care what happened to Kenny. He couldn't care about Kenny. Kyle was _his_ super-best-friend, and Kenny had screwed that up by getting even closer. And it wasn't fair. Kenny and Kyle had never been that close anyway- and now Kenny claimed he _loved_ him? Yeah, right.

Stan wasn't going to let that bastard hurt his super-best-friend, no. Not ever. Not when Stan had watched over the years- regretfully, with humor and awe- as Kenny picked up and dropped girlfriend after girlfriend without a second thought. That crying girl who had thought it was love- that wasn't going to be Kyle. No, Stan wouldn't let that happen. And so, slowly, he had grown to hate Kenny. Hate him more than anything else in the whole world. At least, he thought he did.

Stan was outside the hospital at the moment, not for Kenny's sake- not in slightest. He didn't care about Kenny. Couldn't care about Kenny. Stan was here for Kyle- he was debating on whether he ought to go in and take him away. He'd been there for several hours, and Stan was worried.

It was then a quiet voice spoke out of the dark recesses of a poorly lit corner a few feet away.

"You Stan Marsh?" The voice asked, an undisguised edge of malice oozing off of it like venom.

Stan, startled, jerked his head up, looking over. He could just barely make out the dark outline of his bitter companion, but could not see any details, but the waning light glinted off the boy's red eyes like fire. Stan leaned away.

"Who the hell are you?"

The figure snickered, vicious and taunting, "A friend of Kenny's. I assume you are, as well?"

Stan stopped, froze, the shook his head violently, "_No_, no way in hell. I hate that bastard."

Something Stan had said must have been funny, because the figure laughed at it, then, regaining composure, spoke again, "Funny. He always said you hated him now, but he just spoke so well of you I figured he must be paranoid."

Stan paused, thinking on that.

"Whatever." The boy's voice lost all humor, "Fuck you, and Kyle. I hate you both, since you can't fucking appreciate your fucking friend enough. It's _your_ fault he did this, you know?" The voice snarled.

Stan had to take a step back, actually afraid of the concentrated hatred being poured out directly at him, "Did what? And who _are_ you?"

"It doesn't _matter_ who the fuck I am!" He yelled, "Because you had to go and be such a fucktard, Kenny's going to _kill_ himself! I fucking hope you're proud."

"What?" Stan didn't- couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Listen to me when I speak to you!" The voice spat, "Kenny is in that hospital in a coma. He is _not_ coming out of it, and if he dies, he _won't_ come back."

Stan shook his head, suddenly feeling fear in the pit of his throat, "What do you want _me_ to do about it, then?!"

"Don't do _anything!_ Just make sure he doesn't _die_, you got it? I'll fix this. I can still fix this." Stan wasn't sure- but he heard something in those last few words. Something sad, and scared. A little boy who just didn't want his friend to die. Who was he thinking about? This boy, or himself?

No. Had to be the other one. Because Stan Marsh couldn't care about Kenny McCormick.

"Like I care if he dies." Stan said suddenly, reaffirming his position.

The boy suddenly shot out of the darkness and grabbed him by the collar roughly, slamming him against the wall. Stan, in his surprise, barely managed to catch a glimpse of death pale skin, and hair like onyx, but the eyes remained just as bright and terrifying.

"_Why the hell not?!_" He growled, furious.

Stan was terrified, and shook his head desperately. Normally, he would have instigated a fight at this moment, but he could tell by the strength in the boy's grip that he was outmatched in ways he couldn't _imagine._

"You know- he fucking said you were a _great guy._ That you'd been friends _since forever._ That he'd always felt he could trust you with _anything._ He said you were his _best fucking friend!_ You asswhipe- _he's going to die!_"

Stan looked down, "So what?"

The boy shoved him and stepped back, "I'm wasting my time, aren't I? Fucking hell, if Kenny wasn't such a fucking good guy, he'd have told me what an ass you were. I hope you fucking die. I hope you _fucking_ die_._ He sure will." Stan blinked, and he was alone.

He stared at the darkness, then stared at his feet.

"Oh, hell…" He said quietly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyle brushed Kenny's hair out of his face for the thousandth time that day. He had no idea how the hair of someone in a coma could keep moving- but it did. He'd gotten up three times already and tugged at the sheets of Kenny's bed, making sure it was appropriately messy in classic Kenny-fashion, only to feel guilty at making Kenny sleep on in such squalor, and fixing the sheets back to nurse-quality perfection. He sighed, a lump in his throat and a hurt in his heart.

Something was wrong this time. Very, very wrong. Kyle couldn't quite put his finger on it- but there was just no way this was a normal situation. Kenny's deaths were almost always manic, over the top. Eaten by lions, hit by a train- random comas just didn't happen. The doctor's had no explanation- which was also wrong, inconsistent with what normally happened. And Kenny had been so _off_ lately… So weird. And now a coma? Something was messed up, here.

Stan wouldn't come up. Kyle had called him three times, but he wouldn't budge. He'd known how angry Stan was Kenny, and so far, he'd done nothing about it. He hadn't even tried to talk to Stan- not once. And he felt terrible. So he'd finally called Stan and yelled at him for a good fifteen minutes, before Stan had managed to start yelling back. Kyle had hung up, and now he was here, sad and scared, and Stan was outside, cold and angry. Neither was exactly happy about the situation.

There was a knock on the door. Kyle looked over, startled. Kenny's mother and Karen had already been today, so who could it be? Kyle hoped momentarily it was Kevin- he knew Kenny and his brother were on hard terms, but he had hoped it wasn't quite bad enough that Kevin wouldn't come and visit even once.

But Kyle didn't know the person who came in.

He had black hair and a thin black turtleneck, and was even paler than Kyle. He kept his eyes averted.

Kyle blinked, "Who are you?"  
"My name is Damien. You used to know me… But I don't think you'd remember."

Kyle paused, then shook his head, "I don't remember you, sorry."

"You wouldn't want to. My dad's the devil." He said it bluntly, and for some reason, Kyle didn't doubt him.

"You know Kenny?"

Damien's voice grew soft, "I thought I did." He sighed, finally.

"What's that mean?"

"Listen. I don't like you," Damien said softly, "But I need _somebody's_ help, and Stan won't. So please, _please…_" he pleaded, "If you care about him _at all_… help me."

Kyle, though mildly offended, was far more worried and intrigued, "How?"

"First of all, I want you to know that _this_," he pointed at Kenny, "is entirely _your _fault. This idiot has been trading bits of himself away for four years now to save _your_ sorry ass. And he told me not to tell you. But I'm done keeping my promises."

Kyle's heart sank, the lump in his throat caught in his mouth, and he couldn't respond.

"And now he's gone and traded off the last of what he had… He won't wake up from this. And he won't come back anymore. I can still… _try_ and do something… but I can only think of one thing that would work. I can't do it without you."

Kyle nodded, slowly, then looked over at Kenny, lying still as death in the bed, "anything."

Damien looked over. Kyle's breath caught in his lungs at the sight of such disturbing eyes- red as blood, and bright as fire.

"You have to get sick again."

------------------------------------------------------

Draik: Oh mon dieu!

Kenny: Eh?

Draik: Shhh! You're in a coma, remember!? *hits with plank*

Kenny: X_x

Kyle: Hoshit. 0_o

Draik: Yes yes yes, I'm a terrible person. Anywho.

Stan: Well, at least I'm in the story.

Draik: Isn't it WONDERFUL?! :D

Stan: No.

Draik: Oh. :(

Kenny *groggy* urg….

Draik: Back down! Bad Kenny, bad! *smacks again*

Kyle: Argh! Stopp smacking mah boyfriend! DX

Draik: Never! Hawhawhaw!

Sarrowsnow: I knooooow! ;__;

Kyle: I'M NOT LITTLE KTHNX.

Draik: Btw, Kyle says he isn't little.

Kyle: KTHNX.

Draik: Not little _kthnx._ Sorry.

Emo-nerdy-insane-writer: Ohhh, look at the smarty-pants! *cheek pinch*

StupidityIsStupid: Poor Kenneh. :( I'm actually quite proud of that little bit, myself. ^^ And Stan says thank you. :D

Stan: YAY.


	8. Beepbeepbeep

**Temporary Fix**

Stan bit his lip; repressing the urge to speak out against the idea. He was leaning against the outside doorframe of Kenny's room in the hospital, and there is no other way to describe it, eavesdropping. The conversation inside continued.

"Sick? Like- you mean-" Kyle was floundering for words.

"Don't even say it. You know _exactly_ what I mean by _sick._"

There was a short pause. Stan wished he could see what was happening.

"I… Why?"

The other boy- Damien- gave an exasperated sigh, "He's dying so that _you_ don't get sick anymore. If you get _sick,_ he stops _dying._"

"Do I actually have to… die?"

Another pause. Kyle drew in his breath sharply.

"Doesn't matter. You _were_ supposed to die when you were thirteen, _anyway._ That time that fucking kidney failed, you weren't _meant_ to live. You're fucking idiot friend just won't get that into his skull."

"…Wasn't _meant_ to…" He sounded hurt, confused. A little scared. It was a strange mixture in Kyle's voice, fear wasn't something Stan could honestly remember hearing in Kyle's voice for a long time. His attitude didn't allow for it.

"So," Damien continued, unabated, "It's _your_ life, or _his._ It's your choice. And I think you know what _he_ would say, given the same choice. Call me when you decide to _do_ something." There was a shuffling, and one of them- either Kyle or Damien, Stan couldn't be sure- turned toward the door to leave. He jumped back, scrambling for something to hide behind, finding nothing.

The door opened, Damien stepped out, closed it, and stared at Stan. Stan didn't move.

"You hear that?" Damien asked dangerously, after some time. Stan nodded, a lump in his throat.

"You gonna talk him out of it?" He spat, and Stan started to nod, then stopped.

Damien's eyes squinted angrily, but he stepped forward, brushing past Stan He paused, but didn't turn around.

"Don't think _I_ think it's a good idea, either. I know Kenny better than _you_ ever fucking cared to, and I know what will happen. Option A, Kyle says no. Kenny dies, eventually. I lose my best friend, and Kyle gains a very, _very_ powerful enemy with nothing holding him back. Option B, Kyle says yes. Kenny wakes up and finds out he's dead. Blames himself. Hates himself. Always does. He'll die anyway. And none of it will have mattered."

Stan breathed out heavily, "You… then, there's no real _choice…!_"

Damien continued, undeterred, "Option C. _You_ do something, Kenny wakes up and lives heavily ever after with your best friend. I don't kill Kyle, and all of this goes away."

"Do what?" Stan asked.

Damien laughed, "Do whatever the hell you want!" And he was gone. Stan noticed he was hugging his arms across his stomach, and jerked the back down to his sides, stuffing them in his pockets. _Do something…_

He turned towards the stairs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, you hear that Kenny's in the hospital again?" Stan looked up upon hearing the words spoken, trying to locate their speaker.

"Yeah, but so what?" Craig, apathetic as ever, said in a dull tone, poking at the lump of 'food' on his styrofoam plate.

"So, I mean, like, shouldn't we at least go over there and see if he's okay or something?" Clyde suggested.

"Oh, Jesus dude- what if _dies?!_" Tweak never had grown out of his coffee dependency.

"So? Kenny dies all the time." Craig popped open a carton of milk.

"So, Jesus, I mean, isn't he like your friend or something?!"

"Nah."

Clyde shrugged, "He's not really around enough to get to know him, y'know?"

"God! I guess you're right. Besides, he'll prob'ly be back in a day or two, mean, right?!"

Craig just shrugged, "Whatever."

Stan looked away, done with listening in on the conversation. Instead, he turned his attention away from his empty table to Kyle, another table over. They didn't sit together much anymore, since Kyle spent his lunch period with Kenny, whom Stan had to hate.

But there was nothing to see there. Kyle was poking at the lumpy food on his plate idly with a plastic spork, staring ahead without seeing. No, Kyle's eyes were elsewhere, seeing something Stan couldn't ever hope to.

Stan looked back down at his empty plate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyle was talking, but there was no one to hear him speak. Kenny was in a coma, and there was no one else in the room to hear him. Reassuring words of comfort, when he was the one who needed someone to tell him it would okay.

But it wouldn't be okay.

And how could it? Kenny was in a coma, and he wasn't going to come out of it. Not now, not ever. It was an unavoidable tragedy. Stan wouldn't talk to him anymore, and he felt like his heart was breaking. Kyle had spent hours thinking about the situation, and couldn't come up with any end to his story that didn't involve death.

Kyle found himself shivering at the steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor at Kenny's bedside. Oh, how it terrified him. It was a constant reminder that Kenny wasn't just sleeping. He was in trouble. He was sick. Dying. Beep-beep-beep.

He finally rang silent, leaning his head back against the wall, contemplative.

_I wish like was like TV... _he thought, _All my problems solved in one half hour. Can't kill anyone important, or the ratings go down. So no one dies who deserves to live. There's no happy TV magic to make it stop, either. There's just me. Just me._

Kyle sighed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I hate Kenny. I have to hate Kenny._

Stan shut the door to his room and dropped his backpack beside the door.

_Why do I hate him again...? Oh, right. Him and Kyle. Y'know, it's funny how I just don't want to hate him anymore. Goddammit. I wish everything would go back to normal, and him and Kyle would just be straight again, and we could hang out like we used to and not worry about all this shit. I just want it to go away. _

Stan dropped onto his bed, lay back and stared at the ceiling. _Maybe I should fix it._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_What... am.... What am I doing...? I thought my story was over. Fin. No more to say about Kenny. No more for Kenny to say. So why am I speaking...? I don't get it. I just don't understand._

_Why does my heart hurt so bad? My... my stomach too. I think I'm hungry. I'm not... sure, though. No, I can't tell. I feel so far away from myself. And from the people who are important to me._

_...Who are they...?_

_I can't seem to remember their names.... his, maybe? Singular, one person? God... Why can't I remember? If this person is so important to me, why can't I remember them?_

_I can't...._

_Oh, wait... Who am I?! I'm falling to pieces... Who am I.... Where am I... Why am I? Why is it so dark here? Why does it hurt? Oh god, why does it hurt!? What's my name?! I can't remember my name! This isn't funny! Who am I?!_

_It's so dark... But it feels like it's fading. Only fading into something darker..._

_Please... someone... make it stop..._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door opened. Kyle looked over, blank. So distraught, it took him several seconds to recognize the familiar person who entered the room.

Stan looked up, look down, and walked over, "So. He's going to die for real...?" He said finally, and even though it sounded like he was pumping all the bravado in his body into the word, they still sounded sad and scared. Kyle nodded mutely. Stan bit his lip and stared at the still form in the bed. It was the first time he'd done anything but glare and spit insults in years. Kyle didn't notice, though.

After a few minutes, Stan slunk into a chair pressed up against the wall, as silent as Kyle.

"...So, we're cool, right?"

Kyle looked up, and stared at him. A little light picked up in his eyes, and he nodded, "Yeah. We're cool."

Stan smiled, followed shortly by Kyle. The room seemed a little less cold suddenly, and Kyle opened his mouth to say something else, when he realized with a horrifying shudder that the steady beep-beep-beep that had so terrified him before had quite suddenly, and quite finally, stopped.

---------------

Draik:.... Very short. And after that super duper wait, too. God I'm terrbible.

Kenny: and a cliffhanger, you bitch!!

Stan: Omg! You killed Kenny!  
Kyle: You-

Kenny: DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT.

Kyle: ...sorry. ;=_=

Draik: Well, anywho. I'd like to thank my readers for reading even though I haven't updated in forevah!

Kyle: You have to be DEDICATED.

Draik: THAT YOU DO. As I was saying, life hasn't been good to me lately. Some serious shit has gone down, but I think I just might be that's good, I guess.

StupidityIsStupid: Lol, dedicated Stan-Fan much? Well, at the very least, he's not so much of an ass anymore. And pffttt, I can't TELL you!

Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer: Lol! God, do you know how much you rock for reviewing SO MUCH?! It always makes my day. ^^ And I'm glad SOMEBODY doesn't think I'm predictable. I feel predictable. X_x

SorrowSnow: DO NOT ANGER ZEE KYLE. Naw lol, go ahead. It amuses the author. )D

: Wow! Thank you, thank you! You make me so happy, responding to every chapter! I was checking my email at the same time you were reviewing, and it was soooo great to just see those little messages pop up. :)

xichxliebexdichx: OH MY 'RE AMAZING. I want you to know this. I was having a really TERRIBLE day when you posted this, like, awful. And then I saw this little message and I just felt a helluva lot better. Can't even tell you. Made me feel so much better. Got off my lazy ass and started the damn chapter right then. :) THank you thank you thank you. PS- I can't spell you name for the life of me. DX

PS- To all of you, I had to write this chapter in notepad on a laptop with no 's' or 'b' keys, so it might be a little screwy. I fixed it up in google docs when i had a leeeetle it of internet, but... Bear with me, please and thank you! ^^


	9. Nowhere Places

**Temporary Fix**

Kyle stood up, not sure what to do, "Kenny?!" He cried out above the noise the flatline of the monitor made. The rest was blurry- a foggy memory that wasn't his; he didn't want. Doctors in white coats, Stan yelling. Someone told him to come away, and he did. His dim perception told him that people continued to talk to him, but their words meant nothing.  
And how could they? Kenny was dead, and he wasn't coming back.

* * *

* * *

Damien wanted to be angry.  
Yes, anger was the surest course of action. Those two jerkoffs who called themselves Kenny's friends- and he _let_ them call themselves his friends!- had let him _die!_ It was their fault. Damien had promised to kill them if he died. And it was never good to be dishonest. Yes, it was all their fault. Especially Kyle's. Kyle was the worst. Kenny never talked about goddamn Kyle without the word _love._ Not ever. He said _love_ and he let him die.  
Damien had so many reasons to be furious. He was always angry; it came naturally to him. Fury was his disposition. But, staring at a pale corpse in a morgue, he felt no anger. Only sadness. And a bit of a distant curiosity. There was no autopsy; no one cared about the cause of the disease. Damien dimly wondered why; didn't they know it wasn't just another death of Kenny? It was _the_ death of Kenny? Or perhaps it was that no one cared about Kenny in the first place. Sometimes, it seemed like Damien was his only real friend.  
He remained unseen as they wheeled away the pale tagged thing that wasn't Kenny anymore to be cremated like the others. Damien couldn't help but wonder if a demon could cry.

* * *

* * *

"No! No _fucking _way! Kenny! Kenny, stop it! You're okay! Get up, goddammit! Don't fuck with me, Kenny! _WAKE UP RIGHT NOW, KENNY!_" Stan knew he was screaming and that no one in the room could really hear him. He knew it, deep down. He refused to acknowledge it, though, because if Kenny was...  
"_No! GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP!_" Stan noticed he had grabbed Kenny by the shoulders, and was trying to shake him into consciousness. His pale, blond, battered friend moved limply in his grasp. His eyes were closed. Someone had their hands on him, tried to pull him make him leave Kenny when he needed him. Not this time- not again! Kenny needed him! No, no, not away! Not away from Kenny who needed him! _No!_  
"_No! _No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Kenny _has_ to wake up! He fucking has to! Lemme go! Kenny! KENNY!" And then his fingers slipped on the doorframe, and he couldn't see Kenny anymore.

* * *

* * *

It's so dark... Where am I?

_You are here, obviously._

Hm? Who are you?

_I'm you._

Oh. And who am I?

_Shouldn't you know that?_

That's the problem.

_Ah._

Wait. I remember something. I remember home... A little girl with a bruise and a smile on her face, a boy, much taller, smudged with a grimace and oil stains. Man with something that could be either beer or coffee and a playboy; red haired lady with smile. I like her. Warmth. Tiny rooms, cramped and uncomfortable, but familiar and warm. Snow outside, always there. Home.

_Home does not sound very nice._

It isn't. But it's home. I have to love it.

_And if you did not have to?_

What?

_If you did not HAVE to love it, would you?_

...I don't know.

_Do you remember anything else?_

I remember friends. Stan and Cartman and Kyle... the best friends in the world.

_And what are they like? Why are they so special?_

Oh... Stan is my best friend in the whole world. He must be colour-blind or something, his clothes are always blinding. Red and blue, yellow and purple! Ouch. He's very good at video games. He used to cry for me.

_Used to?_

Stan does not like me now. He is my very best friend ever, but I am not his. I mean very little to him, and it hurts my heart.

_So why do you care about him, if he does not care about you?_

That's a dumb question.

_Why?_

We're best friends; forever. He's going to be important to me no matter what he says or does; one day he'll look back and remember me without hate. I know it.

_Who is Cartman?_

Cartman is an ass. He hates the world and everyone in it. Everything has ever done he has done solely for himself and no one else. He is selfish and cruel.

_So why is he special?_

I've known him forever. He was there for me when I needed him, even if he did it for himself. Once I was very sick. Stem cell research might have helped, but I didn't care at that point. I knew I would die. I don't mind dying. But he was gaining support for it so that he could sell his fetuses. Or was it to make his own shakey's? I don't quite remember...  
He had to be my best friend. He had to save his best friend. That was what he told _them_. So he cried for me. And he was scared for me. And he was sad for me.

_But it wasn't real.  
_  
...There was a time, when I was sick, that he came into my room to tell me it was going to be okay. I was. That he was going to fix me and make me better again. He was going to cry. It would have been a great act.

_But?_

But we were alone.

_And Kyle?_

_..._Kyle is my world. My everything. He's a constant light that scares awya the darkness that's always after me. It rears up and tries to eat me, but Kyle is there to save me. Every day. And yet... I feel as if I'm killing him.

_How? You have given up your own life for his._

I know that. How do you?

_I am you. All you know, I do._

I'm killing him because every time I die, I take a piece of him with me. I can see it in his eyes. I am breaking him. I was breaking him. But I am gone now, and he is for the better.

_ Do you know anything else of him, than what he is to you?_

Of course! I know _everything._ I know that he's a neatfreak. He likes guitars, and even though he's never had a lesson, he can play favorite shampoo is strawberries and peaches, but it smells like strawberries and oranges to me. His favorite colour is green, he secretly thinks I may be a bad influence on Ike, he's unsure of the 'rightness' of his sexuality, his mother scares him, he's really easily frustrated, he hates my house, he's a fucking genius in school- um... um, he's really great at math, he wants to move somewhere by the beach one day, losing his virginity scares him, he hated Brokeback Mountain, he doesn't understand the concept of chinpokomon, and if Stan told him that he was doing something like sneaking battered tigers across the Canadian border, Kyle would want to help. He has a stuffed rhinoceros under his bed that I won him at the fair two years ago. It's green, and has one eye left because Ike tried to flush it down the toilet.

_And yet, you do not know you._

...And yet.

* * *

* * *

"Alright, fags. Listen to me." Damien's voice was a constant growl. Stan would have thought he would be sad- his best friend had died. And why? Because no one had been paying attention when his parents had said it was time to let go.  
Maybe he was sad; maybe anger was just how he dealt with life. But it wasn't his job to care.  
"I talked to my dad, gave in to some shit he's been pressuring me to do."  
"Like what?" Kyle asked suddenly, the first thing he'd said since Kenny's funeral had ended. Or started. He had pulled them back after it was over, with something of apparant importance.  
"...Well, he kind of wants me to take over the family business. I don't really want to- nevermind. It isn't important. Either way, he said that we could have Kenny back _if we could find him_."  
"Where would he be?" Stan asked, "He's _dead_."  
Damien rolled his eyes, "_Duh._ He's in a Nowhere Place. Kenny _can't_ die. That's just how he's _made._ It's his spirit and his soul floating around with nowhere to go."  
"What's a Nowhere Place?" asked Kyle.  
"I think you humans would probably call it something along the lines of 'purgatory.'"  
"Oh."  
"We had to go and find him ourselves. Since we're so close to him, we have a chance of attracting what's left of him. We jut have to fit the pieces together. And then... maybe... I can bring him back."  
Kyle stood up from his seat in the chair.  
"Let's go."

* * *

* * *

Draik: Well, this fic is begining to wrap up. :) If I've planned it out correctly, then there should be only two chapters left. :D  
Kenny: Woooooo! I'm a ghooooOOOOoooost!  
Draik: SHUT DA HELL UP KINNEH. *hits with heavy object*  
Kenny: X_x  
Kyle: You've actually started another fic though, haven't you?  
Draik: By ACCIDENT. My brother is developementally disabled; I've been at Victory Junction this past weekend. It's about a five, six hour drive without much to do. I brought my laptop, but this file was typed COMPLETELY in Google docs, so, no internet on the road. I just started typing in Word, and I'm actually starting to really like the new story.  
Stan: Am I in it?  
Draik: Yup. :D You're sorta kinda a douche, but not really. You bother Kyle a lot.  
Stan: Aw. :(  
Cartman: Am I in it?  
Draik: ....uhm....  
Kenny: Am I the main character? :D  
Draik: NO! :D  
Kyle: I am. ^^  
Draik: But you're very very important.  
Kenny: Yay. ^^  
Draik: I'm not deadset on a name yet, but it's going to being a multichap. Memory, or something.

Sorrowsnow: *bows* I have returned. :D

StupidityIsStupid: Well, the next chapter has good old fashioned "I'm Sorry"'s in it, so, awesome. :D

xichxliebexdichx: HOORAY FOR GERMAN. My grandfather fought in a war with the Germans. I have his old calvary sword. :3 And I do that for alllll the wonderful people who review me. :) It's how I get more reviews. ^^  
That was my favorite part to write. I was ver careful with it; I knew exactly what I wanted. And only 100? D:

KingdomHeartsForevs: YAY. I'm sosososo glad you enjoy it. :)


	10. Home

**Temporary Fix**

It was like a thick gray ocean, minus the water. Kyle clenched his hands at his sides, determined. He stood facing Stan and Damien in what he called a 'Nowhere Place.'

Kyle felt ad for Stan. It didn't seem fair that he had to lose Kenny as soon as he forgave him. Now wasn't the time to dwell upon such things, though. They were going to get Kenny back, not lose him.

At the same time, though, there was a small- but not as small as Kyle would have hoped- told him to just turn around. Go home. If Kenny comes back, nullifies his deal, then Kyle would be a goner. Kenny traded his own life for Kyle's. If Kenny got his back… But Kyle didn't pay much attention to that voice. Kenny died for him. The least he could do was return the favor. He took a deep breath. He'd faced death a thousand times, not knowing he was going to inevitably live through his loved one's sacrifice. One more time. Just one more.

"The spirit should be the easiest to find, "Damien explained, "it should look exactly like him. The spirit is the connection to the body, as I said. The soul, though, is the hard part. It won't look like anything. Just… more gray. But you should be able to sense it, or hear it thinking."

Kyle nodded mutely, and Stan just continued to stare at him, intent.

"Got it? All right. Just say my name if you find either. I'll here you. Now walk." Damien turned then, and left. Stan nodded at him, and turned as well. After a short pause, Kyle followed suit, disappearing into the gray.

Karen sobbed, in complete hysterics. Kevin gritted his teeth and remained silent, clenching his fists in his lap against the chair beneath his legs.

_Dammit! You goddamn idiot… damn you… damn you to hell!_

It was a small service. No one ever missed Kenny. Even though Kenny had been acting really damn weird, and he hadn't come back yet and it had been two damn _days. _What if he… what if he _didn't? _No one would notice. No one would care.

Kevin swore out loud, then got up and left while Father Maxi was still preaching. A tug on his hand told him Karen had followed. Maybe if some of his brother's so-called 'friends' had bothered to show up, it wouldn't have hit him so hard. But no one from school had come. Cartman had said he would, but where was he now? Home sleeping, probably. Kyle? Selfish bastard probably thought he was the only one left in the world who missed Kenny.

Kevin shook his little sister's hand off, and turned out of the graveyard, back to his car. He couldn't sit there anymore, and watch people twist their fingers in their hair and sigh like his brother's death was meaningless. Maybe it was common- but not meaningless.

He wrenched the door open jerkily, frustrated. Just because he was a damn ass to his brother all the time didn't mean he couldn't care when he died! He was a goddamn older brother, it was his job!

Kevin sighed, feeling all the anger go out of him. Something had been wrong with Kenny for too long now. His mind was always elsewhere, he said things that made no sense, he seemed dark, depressed- there was a general _wrongness_ to him all the time now. Kenny thought his brother didn't notice the gun he kept stuffed in his back pocket, under the thick folds of his hoodie. He thought his brother didn't notice just how _often_ he used it on himself rather than get hit by a train, or fall off a cliff. Karen was outside the car, beating her tiny fists against the window at him. _Dammit, Kenny… Who the fuck do you expect to take care of this damn kid if you ditch us? _

All the anger, and all the bad feelings, and all the thoughts directed at his little brother didn't matter. Kenny had died two days ago and not yet come back.

Kevin let his forehead rest against the steering wheel.

Kyle took determined steps, undettered by what would have surely had any ordinary person frightened and reluctant. Kyle, though, had purpose, and reason. It was calming himself with these very thoughts, when the mist parted, and a thing that looked very much like Kenny drifted by. Kyle's heart leapt, and he stumbled forward that last step, grabbing him by the wrist.

"Kenny? Kenny!" Kenny, though was unresponsive. Kyle sighed. It was only his spirit, "Oh, Kenny…"

Stan was far more tentative than his friend. Not only was the general location frightening enough with it's blankness, but the idea of coming up to a conscious Kenny and apologizing for being such a jackass was disconcerting as well.

_Hello?_

Stan paused, looked around. "Um… hello?"

_Oh. You _are_ back, then._

Stan recognized he voice, and the guilt hit him suddenly at the greeting.

"I, um…" He stuttered, forgetting his carefully practiced lines.

_What do you want with me?_

"I- I'm sorry! That's- what I wanted to say. I'm sorry."

_Eh? What for?_

Stan paused, "It's Stan. I'm apologizing for being an ass."

_Oh._

"Oh?"

_So you're Stan, now. I had hoped you'd be Kyle._

Stan's heart sunk, and he didn't answer.

_Did you want something?_

"I want you to come back with me! Come _home!_"

…_I don't want to._

"Why not?"

_It's nicer here. It's quiet. Peaceful. No one is disturbing me. I don't feel hated here._

"Hated? By who?"  
_Well, you, of course._

"Me…?"  
_I'm done with being glared at every time I come near you. I'm finished with knowing that every time I kiss my boyfriend, you see it as a low life molesting your best friend. I smile, and you hate me. I speak, and you hate me. I exist, and you hate me for it._

"…I don't hate you…"

_Oh, but you do. You so do. I had thought I had explained this… you simply are not San-like enough. You hate me, Stan, this is simply truth. _

"I- what?"

_Sigh… Of course, I guess you are close enough for comfort's sake. You're very convincing, if it makes you feel any better. Either way, it is not only Stan that has driven me to liking this place._

_I suppose it was just everything, together. My best friend, hating me every second of every day. The stress and pain I've put on Kyle just by being who I am, death and all. The constant barrage of insults from Cartman, ever so slowly whittling away at my self confidence. The lack of attention from my family, the steady decline in my grades, the visits to the hospital, the trading away of myself… all in all, all of what made up 'me' made me hate 'me.' It's surprising how easy it is to look at oneself after one has died. _

There was a silence, calm from the voice of Kenny, faltering, and honestly _scared_ from Stan.

"Oh, Kenny…" Stan said, finally.

There was a sharp intake of breath.

_Kenny. Kenny! That's _my_ name!_

"Of course it is! Who the hell else could worry me so much?!"  
_Then you _are_ Stan! The real one!_

"Who the hell else would I be? Jesus Christ, dude, I'm sorry!"

_I wanna go home. I just wanna go home._

"I thought you liked it here-"

_I forgot who 'I' was…_

"Don't worry, dude, we're here to bring you back."

_We? Who's we?_

"Me and Damien and Kyle, duh."

…_I can't go back. Kyle will die. And I'm already dead!_

"He won't die, idiot! No way we'd lose _two_ friends! Damien talked to his dad, and you can come back."

_I can go back?_

Stan nodded.

_I can go home. _

Draik: Sorreeeee… I didn't mean for it to take so long! ;=.=

Kenny: WHERE'S DA CHAPTERS BEEN, BITCH?!

Draik: I'm SORRYYYYYY *sobs* I HAD SCHOOL!

Kyle: lame. LAAAAME.

Kenny: *shuffles off*

Draik: Where's he going?

Kenny: *coughcough* You'd been gone so long-! And I needed to be written about, and-

Stan: He cheated on you with other authors.

Draik: NU! YOU WHORE.

Kenny: D:

Draik: *hits with the hammerspace frying pan of magic awesomeness*

**SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! THANKS FOR BEARING WITH ME!**


End file.
